A Secret Place
by Hydrangea Rochester
Summary: My imagining of Diamond and Pippin's romance. Pretty fluffy!
1. Buttercups

S.R. 1400

It was late in the afternoon and the sun was beginning to set behind the now orange-painted hills of Tookborough. A warm August breeze swept softly through the gardens and grasses. The smells of supper and firewood floated out through the various chimneys. Gaffers paused their smoking and meandered back inside to eat, and a few hobbit children pranced out of woods and over hills with handfuls of mushrooms and posies, their cheeks flushed from the excitement of the day and the anticipation of a good meal.

Eglantine Took leaned out of the front door of Great Smials and called for her young son Peregrin, who could not have been far-she often discovered him running in the lane or playing with his cousins in the field, always within earshot, not wanting to be too far away when supper was ready. But today she did not see him.

"Where is that silly child?" Eglantine thought, feeling slightly anxious. She called again, this time a little louder, but there was no answer. "He's probably gone to Bag End, or found a mushroom patch somewhere. At any rate, he's most definitely with Meriadoc, which means he'll be alright." She shook her head and went back inside to set the table, remembering to give him a good lecture on skipping his after-supper chores.

* * *

Peregrin opened his eyes, abruptly ending his afternoon nap. For once, he was not with Meriadoc. He had wandered off by himself right after Tea in a fit of curiosity, walking quite foolishly over hills and through gardens, until he reached a nice lush meadow dotted with baby's breath and daisies. Being very exhausted from the journey, he had finally thrown himself down into the tall green grass and fallen asleep there, under the warmth of the sun.

Now he felt a strange weight on his back. It was not the worst thing to wake up to, he thought, but still very peculiar. So Pippin propped himself up with his forearms and turned his head to try and see what was on his back: but in doing so, the thing jumped immediately off and walked round to his face, provoking a startled cry.

It was only a fluffy white cat, Pippin realized, and he immediately felt very silly. He propped his face in his hands and gave the kitty an affectionate kiss on the nose, to which it responded with a purr and a head rub.

"Who's there?" Squeaked a startled but very sweet voice behind him. It sounded like a little girl.

Turning around, Pippin sat up on his bum. It was a little girl, no more than five years old, and she was standing right in front of him with an anxious look on her face as she nervously plied her grass-stained skirts. Her messy dark hair was topped with a chain of flowers. She had clearly been here, picking flowers, for quite a while.

Pippin recognized her instantly: it was Diamond, one of the North Tooks, whom he had played with at parties once or twice. She was a sensitive little thing, very fearful, and this annoyed Pippin-most girls did. Anyway, Pippin was surprised to find her alone here. He wondered just how far from home he was.

"Oh, Pippin!" Diamond beamed. She had always thought Pippin was a very nice hobbit, and had eagerly sought his approval and amity in the past. To his dismay, she threw her arms round his neck and squeezed him much too tightly, It was sweet in its way. Still, Pippin pushed her off after only a few seconds.

"You shouldn't hug so tightly!" He scolded. The cat chirped and climbed into his lap. "I couldn't breath. 'Hello, how are you' is quite sufficient."

Little Diamond frowned and fidgeted bashfully. "I'm sorry," she said, sitting gently down. "I'm just very happy to see you!"

"It's alright," Pippin stammered, feeling sorry for being so harsh. She really was a sweet little girl. "But, what are you doing out here, Diamond?"

"I always play here," Diamond smiled. "It's my special secret place!" She turned her head to the side with a quizzical look. "But it's not a secret anymore, since you found it."

Pippin frowned. "Well, it wasn't exactly hard to find."

Diamond fixed her gaze on Pippin and stood up, her hands on her hips. She leaned in so that their noses almost touched, and kept staring.

"Hmmm," She hummed, scrunching up her face in concentration. Pippin was now very annoyed, and thought violent thoughts, but he managed to restrain himself. "Aha!" Diamond finally said after some long seconds. She finally backed away to a more comfortable distance.

"Aha, what?" Pippin spat, crossing his arms.

"You're allowed to know about my secret place! You seem like a good secret-keeper to me," Diamond explained, and twirled around some, the way a little girl is wont to do.

"Alright," Pippin accepted, rolling his eyes at her acrobatics. "But I shan't pick flowers with you. Flowers are for girls."

Diamond looked genuinely hurt. "They're pretty..." She insisted, pulling a wilted daisy from her apron pocket and holding it out to him.

"They're stupid." Pippin retorted bluntly. Diamond gave up and sat down beside him. The cat shifted in his lap and twitched its tail.

"You're no fun," Her voice was shaky, as if she were going to cry. _There she goes again, _Pippin thought. _She always throws a crying fit when I refuse to play her dumb games._

But she did not actually cry: she only looked at the ground dismally. "Don't you think this place is pretty, Pippy?" She pronounced quietly. Pippin winced at the nickname.

But he could not deny that it was a very beautiful meadow, especially now that the sun was setting. The sky was tinted with topaz, and the swaying grass had turned ruby. Everything seemed to glow with warmth, as if the sun felt it had slackened its rays during the day and thus emptied its brilliant fires wholeheartedly as last-minute compensation. The grasshoppers sung magically, as if to thank it.

"I suppose it is pretty," Pippin sighed and leaned back. He smiled and closed his eyes to watch the blur of orange. The cat stretched in its sleep. Diamond looked Pippin up and down, then imitated his pose and closed her eyes as well. They sat like that for quite a while, listening to the grasshoppers' symphony.

"I'm hungry," Pippin finally said. "It must be about suppertime." He nudged the reluctant cat off of him, stood up, and brushed off his backside.

He was about to turn and walk home, but did a double take instead. Diamond had fallen asleep in the grass, clutching her wilted flowers. The crown of blossoms had fallen halfway off her head, but she snored softly with contentedness.

"And what am I to do, carry you, you dumb lazy stupid girl?" Pippin asked with annoyance. But she did not stir.

So Pippin, very annoyed but not altogether certain it was best to leave the little girl there alone, did his best to hoist her up onto his back. She tightened her arms around his neck in her sleep and sighed. The flowers, still in her hands, tickled his collarbone.

The cat chirped and weaved around Pippin's feet jealously.

"Shush, kitty," Pippin whispered. It only stared at him expectantly.

The sun had almost completely disappeared now, and the blazing countryside had taken on a more purple look: but there was light enough. Pippin took a deep breath and carried his burden home, the cat trailing him all the way.

When he got ready for bed that night, he found three slightly crushed buttercups in his breast pocket.

* * *

A/N: Wow I'm embarrassed! What do you think guys? (Will anyone read this?) It's very fluffy!


	2. Thunder

S.R. 1407

It was an October afternoon. Hobbiton had become dim and foggy in the wake of a coming storm. Fierce, wet winds were blowing, causing the grass and the remaining leafy trees to rustle wildly in unison, reminding all that rain and thunder would come soon.

Diamond, wrapped up in various colorful quilts, sat at a window in Bag End and watched the leaves swirl in the wind. In the kitchen Master Frodo was serving tea and seedcake to his other guests, Merry, Pippin, and Pimpernel. Their pleasant laughter resonated into the living room where Diamond was: but she was preoccupied by the muffled sounds of the world outside, which she found too discomforting to ignore.

It looked wretchedly chaotic, and Diamond hated chaos. She had grown to prefer the safety of still sunlight; the neatness of routine; and the peace of familiarity. These were her virtues. She often felt like an egg in a robin's nest, suspended carefully from some great height that could kill her if anything were to move even slightly. Or at least, that was what she feared.

Frodo entered and laid a gentle hand on Diamond's shoulder.

"Diamond-lass, you'll only worry yourself sick if you watch like that," He said with concern. "Come have some tea."

"But..." she protested quietly, still looking fearfully at the window.

"We're going to be alright, don't you worry," Frodo comforted. He was the nicest grown-up hobbit Diamond knew, besides her parents. She let her blankets fall back and reluctantly hopped off the chair. Frodo smiled and led her into the kitchen. She glanced back at the window a few times on the way.

"There you are!" Pimpernel chimed sweetly, looking up from the slice of seedcake she had just stuck her fork into. "We missed you!"

"Hello!" Merry waved over-enthusiastically.

"Ahg bghhg fghigh beghgr nghfg?" inquired Pippin through a mouthful of cake.

Diamond smiled weakly and sat down beside Pimpernel, who promptly set a plate in front of her and poured her a cup of peppermint tea. Diamond inhaled its soothing steam with reverence. It made her feel slightly less anxious.

It wasn't long until she felt like herself again. Merry and Pippin knew just how to make her laugh, and Pimpernel did not hold back any hugs and calming words. Even her fluffy white cat, Merle, sauntered over to nuzzle her toes.

* * *

An hour later, it had begun to rain. Frodo was sitting on the couch reading a book and smoking a pipe. Merry and Pippin had wandered off into the deep halls of Bag End, looking for something to do or a board game to play. Pimpernel sat on the floor, braiding Diamond's hair. Merle purred in Diamond's lap.

Diamond was thoroughly enjoying the feeling of her hair being tugged and woven, and the way the air cooled her neck as the loose strands became fewer. It made her feel unusually prim and ladylike: a novel phenomenon. At twelve years old, she was tired of feeling like a little girl: she wanted to be mature and alluring, like Pimpernell: she wished she wasn't always the baby of her friends (even Pippin was five years her elder.) But she had no idea how to do that, and dreaded the thought that she might stay childish and awkward forever. So she savored her little moments of femininity.

"All done!" Pimpernel said, tying the braid's end with a thin white ribbon. "Well, almost." She then added the final touch: a pink satin headband, which highlighted the pretty wisps of stray curls around Diamond's face. Pimpernel handed Diamond a small gilded mirror, and they admired the newly arranged coiffure together.

"It's very pretty!" Frodo complemented, looking up from his book for a moment.

Just then there was a crash somewhere deep in the hall and Pippin shrieked shrilly, turning everyone's gaze to the archway. Silence, then giggles and shouts of "Hooray!". Merle sprung away from Diamond's lap and trotted out of the room to investigate, her tail held high.

"Just what are my idiot brother and cousin up to now?" Pimpernel wondered aloud, shaking her head.

Seconds later Merle came running back into the room with wide eyes and furled ears. Merry and Pippin, the source of her terror, came barreling loudly after. Pippin was carrying an old cookie tin labeled "Cards".

"Pippin! Look!" Merry exclaimed as soon as they entered, looking at Diamond. Pippin did look, then laughed with glee and set the tin on a side-table. Diamond nervously hid her face behind the little mirror right as they tackled her with a tight bear hug.

"She's so cuuute!" Merry cheered.

"The cutest of the North-Tooks!" Pippin declared.

"The sweetest of the Shire!" Merry countered.

"The loveliest in Middle-Earth!" shouted Pippin triumphantly.

Diamond was now quite red, and the mirror shook in her trembling hands.

"You're embarrassing the poor girl!" Pimpernel scolded and whacked Pippin sharply on the back. He yelped and the two ceased their loving outburst.

"Sorry," Pippin said, shooting a mock-hurt look at his sister. "We were simply overcome with her cuteness. It's really you're fault for braiding her hair so neatly..."

"Oh hush! Now what's in this box that you're so excited about?" Pimpernel asked. Merry grabbed the box and set it on the floor in the center of their circle.

"It's quite spectacular," Merry insisted. "Pippin had to climb across a heap of old furniture to get it! Knocked some things over too, he did..."

A look of horror crossed Frodo's face. He dropped his book and shuffled anxiously out into the hall. Merle took his seat and laid down for a nap.

"You two are the most ill-mannered hobbits I've ever known. This better be worth it, for all the stress you've caused cousin Frodo," Chided Pimpernel.

"It is worth it!" Pippin retorted and folded his arms stubbornly. "Do you know that in all of Bag End, this is the only thing we've found that looks at all entertaining?"

"There's a whole room full of books."

"Books are _not_ entertaining!" Merry rolled his eyes. "Anyway, we're almost certain this box shall end the night's boredom."

Pimpernel looked skeptical, but said nothing. Diamond leaned over curiously to get a better look at the tin. "It's dreadfully dusty," she remarked, smudging her finger over the lid before resuming her posture.

"You can't judge a box by its dustiness," Pippin said and picked the container up. He managed to pry the cover off.

"What's in it?!" Diamond blurted excitedly.

"Just what the label says," Pippin pulled out two full decks of yellowed playing cards, each one tied securely with twine. He smiled cheekily. "Now shall we play blackjack, or poker?"

Pimpernel asserted that they would not be playing any gambling games, and in reply Pippin commented that she was far too uptight for her own good. The argument carried on in that fashion until Pimpernel got hold of the cards and threatened to toss them into the fireplace unless her brother agreed to play a more gentlemanlike game-"for the sake of the ladies present." So Pippin, disappointed, agreed to play canasta.

It was a slow game to begin, but after half an hour or so they had really gotten into it.

"How many points do we need for this meld again?" Diamond asked, fumbling with the cards in her hands. Unlike the others, she hadn't played the game before, and didn't know the rules very well.

"We have about two-thousand points right now, so you'll have to meld ninety," reminded Merry, who was her teammate. They were in the lead, having played a surprisingly lucky first round.

Diamond chewed her lip. The rain was becoming more intense now, so that it could be heard battering against the side of Bag End. Her focus had steadily begun to wane: the anxiety of a few hours ago was returning.

"Diamond, is everything alright?" Pimpernel asked gently. The cards were now shaking in Diamond's hands.

"It's fine... I'm fine," Diamond said, almost whispering. She forced a smile.

It did not stay on her face for long. Presently the window lit up and a deafening crack of thunder boomed outside. Instantly Diamond felt herself beginning to cry and let out a pathetic whimper, hiding her watery eyes behind the cards. Her whole body trembled. She felt terribly helpless, and a little embarrassed. There was something deep in her mind that encouraged, "composure!", but it was lost amidst the doubtful cacophony of her startled nerves. The tears had begun to flow, and there was no stopping them.

Pimpernel hugged her comfortingly while Merry and Pippin looked on with no idea what to do. More thunder sounded, and Diamond sobbed wretchedly against Pimpernel's shoulder.

"What's wrong?" Frodo had finally emerged from the hall looking very worried.

"The thunder frightened her," Pimpernel explained in a motherly voice.

Frodo looked upset. He knelt, lifted the weeping Diamond carefully to the couch, and went to fetch her some tea. Pimpernel covered her with a quilt and sat by her side to offer further consolation. Merry and Pippin, still clueless, went into the kitchen to help Frodo.

The next half-hour passed slowly as Diamond struggled to calm down. She would begin to breath more steadily, and her groans would subside until the only sound to be heard was the rain and her sniffling-she once even managed to achieve a gloomy but real silence for ten good minutes; but then the next roll of thunder would come crashing, and she would hide her face behind the covers or cling weakly to Pimpernel in another tearful fit. On and on it went.

Frodo had nothing to do but read, and Merry and Pippin tried to play cards: but they said nothing, and wished that the storm would stop short, or that Diamond would miraculously fall asleep. Neither wish came true. Instead, Pimpernel finally insisted that they retire to their room.

"Surely you will feel safer in your bed; and I shall stand by to keep you company," she whispered patiently as Diamond was sniffling against her arm.

Diamond said nothing, but let Pimpernel put an arm around her shoulders and lead her away.

"Goodnight," Pimpernel said to the others when they had reached the hall.

The thunder seemed more muffled in their snug guest room, and though she sobbed silently long after Pimpernel had dozed off, eventually Diamond slept.

* * *

At breakfast, bright morning sunbeams streamed into the kitchen, giving no hint as to the previous night's weather. For the most part, calm had settled on the new-risen hobbits in Bag End, who chattered over glittering syrupy pancakes and crunchy bacon. Only Diamond seemed the least bit unsteady. She cut her pancakes tentatively, and did not even smile at Merry and Pippin's antics.

It was not that she was afraid anymore: the thunder had gone, and the steady, warm sun should have given her strength. Instead, she felt an overwhelming sense of embarrassment. She had cried, cried over nothing. It had been more than nothing to her: to her, the whole world seemed to have been under attack. Her head swam with the chaos of each brutal peal.

Yet the others were not affected! Why? What made them so aloof, Diamond wondered? What was it that separated her from her friends? They always had confidence, like solid, unmoving rocks in a river. She observed them at the table: even their fluttering laughs seemed rooted in the deep hum of security. In fact, she noticed this in every hobbit. It seemed to Diamond that they were all born with a profound tranquility: she alone had been denied it, and it was something she could never earn. She was simply too different, too fragile, too... _Diamond_. She might have looked like any other hobbit, but inside, there was something black and nasty that slowly tore her apart, and no hobbit could ever understand it. The monster in her heart could never be expelled. It was simply out of her control.

There was a lull in the conversation: everyone was now focused on taking another bite. Merry smiled and savored his mouthful. Pimpernel giggled quietly with happiness. Diamond stared motionless at her food, her despair increasing in contrast with their joy.

She sobbed audibly.

Now all eyes were on Diamond, and she tore her gaze from the plate, wishing she hadn't made any noise. But it was no use: she could not stop it: the tears began to collect in her eyes as everyone else searched for something to say. On a whim she glanced at Pippin, but she could not read his face.

"Diamond, is everything-" Pimpernel began.

"When are you going to stop acting like a baby?" blurted Pippin.

Diamond's eyes widened with surprise. Her mouth opened, but faltered: she had no answer to give.

"I..." Pippin looked away regretfully and tried to communicate an apology, but it was too late. Diamond rose and exited hastily, leaving the company in stunned silence.

"You have got to apologize to her, Pip..." said Merry when they heard the front door shut loudly behind her. Pippin sighed, knowing his cousin was right.

* * *

Diamond sat on a white wooden chair in the front garden, hugging her knees and staring at the ground.

The dirt was still wet from the storm, and glistened in the sunshine. Most of the flowers had ceased to bloom a month ago, but some morning glories were still holding fast to a trellis: drops of rain and dew made little prisms atop their ocean blue petals.

"Are the flowers crying too?" Diamond thought sarcastically before shutting her eyes.

Pippin had been right, she admitted to herself. She had been acting like a spoiled baby for the whole visit. She had blushed and worried about every stupid little thing, cried far too much over something that really didn't matter: and then she had ruined breakfast for everyone. She had been nothing but a bother to the others, a noisy, whiny child. A baby.

But she had no idea how to fix that. It seemed like she could not stop: the doubts would take over and thinking seemed impossible. How could anyone else understand that feeling? They were never afraid. She felt it was simply in her nature to always be a baby, and her heart sank to think that she would never grow up. She did not want to be a baby, but a lady.

Just then the front door opened and closed slowly, and Diamond heard light muddy footsteps approach. They stopped close to her. She opened her eyes to see Pippin standing there, looking nervously away with his arms crossed behind his back.

"Diamond, I'm very sorry," he said quietly. Silence for a moment; he tipped a chair to drain its puddles, then sat. "I shouldn't have said that. It was rude of me."

"No, you were right. I am a baby. I didn't realize it until now, but I am," Diamond paused and swallowed back a sob. "All I do is cry... I'm just a big bother to you all. I'm sorry. It's simply because I'm me. I just get so anxious and I overreact and the tears just pour out. I hate myself-" her voice cracked and she buried her face in her knees, not daring to breath.

She couldn't cry now, not right now. She felt Pippin's eyes on her. She felt so pathetic. She couldn't cry now. She wished he would say something.

Finally he did.

"We all feel that way, sometimes," Pippin pronounced the words slowly and carefully.

"What?" Diamond breathed and looked up at him. "But..."

"I mean, we all feel afraid and confused. We all hate ourselves, sometimes. It's not just you."

"You never look that way..."

"Well, yes. Part of growing up is learning to control your emotions, even when you're terrified," Pippin explained. He smiled. "To tell you the truth, I don't like thunder much either."

"But how? It feels impossible..." Diamond glanced away.

"It's does feel impossible, and you will have to practice a lot. But you'll get there."

"But what if I mess up? What if I lose my temper, and you all leave me?" Her voice was low and fragile.

"Ah," Pippin tapped the side of his nose twice. "The thing is, we won't leave you. We care about you, so you don't have to be scared. We will not give up on you, Diamond. I won't give up on you, because that's what it means to be a friend."

Diamond looked back at Pippin's face: his eyes were bright with kindness. He really hadn't given up on her. She felt her tears melt away, and her heart filled with hope. She smiled and felt her cheeks warm with happiness.

"Really?" Her voice fluttered.

"Of course! And you won't give up on me, either?"

"Never," Diamond shook her head.

"Good! Now I think it's about time for second breakfast!"

Diamond laughed. The pair stood up, linked arms, and made their way back inside, singing cheerfully as mockingbirds.

* * *

A/N: Aha! I bet you thought Diamond was going to be a Mary Sue, didn't you?

I hope you liked this chapter, it was a lot angst-ier than the first. As much as I love fluff, I don't think any good story can be free of angst.

Thanks for the reviews, they made me so happy!


	3. 1 Lithe

S.R. 1413

It was the first night of Lithe: the Free Fair had begun. Brilliantly-colored lanterns peppered the White Downs, lighting tents and vending booths. Music, laughter, and the smells of food were everywhere. Older hobbits sat to eat and smoke, and younger ones hurried excitedly to join in the dancing.

Pippin thought it was one of the best dances he had been to. Maybe it was because he had on his favorite pink weskit with yellow buttons-that always made him happy, although he was embarrassed to admit it. It also could have been the grass, which felt particularly nice and cool under his feet as he moved.

But it was probably because this year, one of the Boffin gammas had set up her mushroom pie stand right next to the little field where the dance was, and its scent continually floated by Pippin. Between switching partners, he often found himself sniffing it with his eyes shut dreamily.

"Pippin!" Merry shouted through the noise on one such occasion, startling him out of his trance.

"Merry! I didn't see you there!" Pippin did a double take. He let go of his latest partner, an annoyed Wisteria Proudfoot, and skipped to the edge of the dance with his best friend.

"Nice weskit," Merry laughed, when they had gotten sufficiently out of the way of the fast-moving crowd.

"Thanks," Pippin said with a bright smile, which quickly turned to a frown. "Oi! Don't make fun!"

"It's pink!"

"It's my most beautiful, favorite weskit! My grandmum sewed it for me," Pippin asserted, though he began to laugh too.

"I have very important news for you," Merry said when they had finished giggling.

"You found kittens?"

"What? No-"

"A barrel of apples?"

"No-"

"You bought me stuffed mushrooms?!"

"No!"

"Well, what then?" Pippin frowned. "Now that you've disappointed even my mushroom hopes..."

"Is that all you ever think about?" Merry sighed.

"Well... Yes!" beamed Pippin with starry eyes.

"You're hopeless," Merry rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "Anyway, Fatty asked me to remind you that you're supposed to be playing bass in half an hour."

"Lawks!" Pippin gasped in horror. He had completely forgotten: he had said he would be with the band at eight o'clock. "But I don't even know where my bass is!"

Merry patted him on the shoulder sympathetically, and then Pippin dashed out into the dimness of the lantern-lit fair.

He would have to find it quickly. He had set the huge instrument in the green sometime that morning: but that was before most of the vendors had set up their tents and stands. It was now either pushed to the corner of some gaffer's tent or out in the darkness of the nearby fields, where no lanterns had been set up. How could he possibly find it in time? He cursed his foolishness; he ought to have left it by the stage.

After wandering aimlessly for a while, Pippin sat down on a bench to think, his face propped in his hands. Maybe he could buy a new bass from a vendor somewhere. No, that wouldn't do, because his bass was specially made-but he supposed maybe he could adjust for the emergency? But even so, he might have to search the whole fair to find anyone selling instruments...

Reluctant to face the impossible issue at hand, Pippin studied the small pavilion across the way. It was of a thin white fabric with tiny pink floral details, most likely a bed sheet, suspended in the air by four wooden poles. But more interestingly, underneath the pavilion were about ten or fifteen hobbit children, and they listened intently to Diamond, who sat on the grass among them reading a book aloud.

Pippin smiled when he saw his dear friend: he had wondered why she left the dance an hour before him. She was on daycare duty, and seemed to be enjoying it very much. She added drama to each word of the story, so that the children leaned in and sometimes gasped, or interrupted to remark on the plot's developments. Pippin had never seen her speak so clearly and with such enthusiasm.

Diamond had changed greatly since that morning six years ago, when he had promised not to give up on her. She had grown up: she was still naturally inclined toward seriousness and quietude, but had become brave, patient, cheerful, and much less fragile. Her somewhat strange features were made more endearing by the light of confidence that shone through them-yes, she was beautiful, Pippin thought. Her growing wisdom and kindness made her so. He was glad to think that someday, when Diamond had come of age, she would marry some gentlehobbit and live happily ever after.

After about ten minutes had passed, the story was finished, and Diamond hugged the book with a delighted sigh as the children clapped. One small hobbit-maid began to cry.

"Oh, Ruby-lass, why are you crying?" asked Diamond.

"That ending, 'twas just so nice," Ruby said quietly, rubbing away her tears.

"Yes, it makes me cry sometimes too." Diamond smiled comfortingly. The girl smiled back. For a minute the group was caught up in a thoughtful silence.

"Now, how about another story, or would you all like to play a game?" Diamond finally addressed the children, who then began to talk squeal as they decided what to do next.

At that moment, Diamond looked up and noticed Pippin watching her; he looked away instinctively out of embarrassment. But she had seen him, and waved, and he of course returned the gesture.

"Just a tick, I'll be right back," Diamond said above the children's shouting for more stories. They groaned.

She picked up her pale purple skirts and stepped around the children to the corner of the tent, where something lay under a blanket. She pushed the covering away and held up Pippin's lost bass, then carefully made her way over to him with it.

"Diamond! How did you-?" exclaimed Pippin, jumping up and running toward her as soon as he noticed her burden.

"I found it on the grass when I was setting up my tent. You really should be more careful, Peregrin!" She laughed, handing the big thing over to him.

"Bless you, sweet wonderful Diamond!" he leaned the instrument against the bench and, taking her head in his hands, he kissed the top of it with joy. In an instant he had already picked up the bass and started off toward the dancing field.

"Well, good-bye then!" Diamond called.

"Sorry, no time to talk! Good-bye! Thanks!" He replied, looking back as he ran. He made it to the stage with mere minutes to spare.

* * *

Pippin played in the band for three hours, after which he was thoroughly exhausted. It had gotten late, and most of the hobbitfolk were preparing to leave for the night. Even Merry was unusually tired: when Pippin finally quit the stage, he found his best friend asleep at a picnic table.

"Merry, wake up, it's time to leave," whined Pippin, shaking Merry by the arm. But Merry only snored louder. "Well, I'm not carrying you to cousin Frodo's, if that's what you think..."

No reply.

He sighed and decided he would just have to leave without Merry. There was no point waiting for him to wake, and he knew his way to Bag End anyway.

At first Pippin started toward the lane, but seeing that it was crowded with other festival-goers making their way back to homes and inns, he decided to cut across the lawn of the Downs outside the festival grounds.

The air felt refreshingly cool as he trudged down the first hill. Grasshoppers sang and a slow breeze rustled the dewy turf. A full moon shone bright, and with it countless stars looked down on the deep blue world. It was that sort of night that evokes fearlessness: nature seems astir with wonder and beauty, and all you can think of to do is run or roll on the ground or throw your head back, because no one is there to make you feel silly about it.

Pippin, however, was a little too tired to do any of those things; so he closed his eyes and started to sing.

He stopped when he heard giggling in the distance.

He had thought he was alone-but then, he was never terribly aware of his surroundings. Sure enough, when he looked behind him, there was Diamond, holding her skirts with dainty pallid fingers and wading through the tall grass of the hillock he had descended earlier. She was accompanied by Rosie Cotton.

"Oh! Hullo Peregrin!" They greeted when they noticed him, quickening their pace to catch up.

"Hullo Diamond, Rosie," Pippin replied, trying to hold back a yawn.

"Are you avoiding the crowd in the lane too?" Rosie asked. Now all three were walking side by side.

Pippin nodded tiredly.

"Well, 'tis good that we found you. Lasses should have someone around to protect them when walking in the dark like this," smiled Rosie.

"Of course," Pippin flexed his arms dramatically. "And I'm exceedingly strong, you know."

The girls laughed; Pippin frowned.

Silence for a while. They walked over a few small hills, and into a flat meadow dotted with baby's breath and daisies. Pippin stopped looking at his feet to gaze at it. He thought it was familiar.

Diamond trailed behind a little, slowing down as she also looked at the meadow. "Peregrin," she whispered. She spoke as if the place were sacred, unwilling to permeate its solemn atmosphere with noise. "Do you remember this place?"

They both stopped. Rosie did not notice, and kept walking.

"Yes," whispered Pippin after thinking a minute. "The secret place. I haven't been here since I was ten."

They closed their eyes and listened.

"I still come here to read sometimes, when I really want to be alone," Diamond confessed. Pippin gave a quiet chuckle.

"I know, it's silly right?" Diamond laughed too. "But, there is a kind of magic here. It always lifts my spirits."

More silence. She bent and picked a few buttercups. Pippin noticed how the moon lit the edges of her hair and the bunched fabric of her dress: thin highlights atop neat chocolate curls and smooth lavender folds.

"Come on!" Rosie called, having noticed their delay. "At this pace, it shall be past midnight when we reach the Bywater!"

Pippin looked toward Rosie and scratched the back of his head, feeling foolish. Diamond stood up straight with a fist full of the flowers.

They glanced at each other, laughed awkwardly, and then walked on.


	4. Reading

The two had been good friends before, but after that Lithe they became practically inseparable.

It started on 2 Lithe, when all of the hobbits staying in Bag End for the festival arose and took breakfast. Pippin sat across from Diamond, and somehow they got to talking on the subject of who had the best lemon cake recipe: was it gamma Bolger, or Pippin's own mother, Eglantine? Pippin insisted it was his mother, of course, but Diamond swore she had tasted both recipes and Mrs. Bolger's was the real winner.

The argument got heated enough that finally Pippin declared, "Well then, we shall just have to try both today and make a final decision." He explained that his mother had brought one or two from Tookborough, and they could easily find one of Mrs. Bolger's in her pantry.

"But that would be stealing!" Diamond pointed out.

"Do you really think she'll miss two measly slices of lemon cake?"

"I don't know..."

"They probably don't taste good anyway. She'll be glad they disappeared."

"Now hear me, master Peregrin! They are the best in the Shire and-"

"Prove it."

He had her there. So that morning, when everyone else had gone off to the fair, Pippin dragged a reluctant Diamond into the Bolger's empty home and located the pantry. He thought there was something irresistibly cute about her as he grabbed a lemon cake from the shelf: was it the nervous widening of her baby blue eyes, or the way she wrung her little pink fingers? Perhaps it was both. Once he had the cake they hurried out and back to Bag End as quickly as possible, Diamond glancing back all the way, feeling very guilty; but Pippin just laughed when he saw this, saying, "honestly, Diamond, you worry too much."

When both cakes had been gathered and thoroughly considered, he had to admit that Diamond was right. Eglantine's recipe was dry and tasteless compared to gamma Bolger's, which was perfectly sweet and moist. He clapped and bowed dramatically, which made her giggle. He liked how she giggled. He wished he could hear it more often.

Both admitted that they had done a poor job keeping in contact: so, before they left for the fair, an agreement was struck. When Lithe was gone and they were separated again, Pippin would write to her, and she would write back, and in this way they would keep up a friendly correspondence.

The first letter arrived a month after Diamond was back in Long Cleeve. By then it was mid-August, and she began to think Pippin had been joking.

"'Twouldn't be much of a surprise if he were," she thought out loud, looking up from her knitting. The girl was seated outside, waiting for the post to come- she had done so for at least two weeks. Every day she watched the grass and vines sway around her, and noticed the growth of the snapdragons in the window box, but the postmaster had not come.

"Humph."

She pursed her lips and resumed her work with a furious celerity, though in truth she was not at all surprised. Pippin never did seem like the sort of hobbit who would enjoy writing; nor was he inclined to think before he spoke. He had probably just made the promise out of excitement, without any intention to follow through on it. She wouldn't fault him for that.

But just then she heard a faint pleasant noise, like someone singing nearby.

_Follow the lane, follow the lane,_

_Though whither I go may not be plain_

_'Til I check the scrawled address again_

_And follow the lane, follow the lane_

Diamond thought the lyrics were very oddly written, but were sung so cheerfully that it did not matter. And when she saw the singer ride up on a little gray pony with a mail bag at his side and a feather in his hat, her jaw nearly dropped with surprise.

The postman tipped his cap. "Hullo, miss Diamond!"

"Good afternoon!" Diamond replied with a smile. "Have you got any letters for me, pray?"

He held up one small envelope sealed with shiny red wax. "Aye, all the way from Tookborough, too."

Diamond set her work aside quickly and bounced over to to accept the mail.

"Thank you kindly," she said, studying the treasure in her hands. The parchment seemed so smooth and neat, yet bulged slightly to accommodate the folded letter within. Her first letter! She had opened invitations before, but never anything addressed specifically to her.

She bid the postman goodbye, and watched him ride around a corner: then, gathering her yarn, she walked inside and to her room, beaming all the way. She opened her curtain for extra light, closed the door, fluffed her pillows, and finally sat on the bed, holding the still sealed envelope out in front of her.

Carefully she broke the seal and pulled out her prize.

"Peregrin has terrible handwriting," she noted, wrinkling her nose. Then at last she began to read.

_"August 2nd, 1413_

_Dear Diamond,_

_How is Long Cleeve? Things are not so well here. It appears I forgot my bass somewhere in the field again, and it is too late to find it this time. I don't really care, but my mother and father say I should be more careful, and I suppose they are right. Still, it is nice to be rid of the clunky thing."_

The letter continued in a similar fashion, detailing some of Pippin's most recent adventures with Merry, and asking a few questions near the end. And the final lines made her laugh:

"_One last question, and this might seem bizarre: what is a petticoat? Is it like a winter coat? I've always wondered. Anyway, write back soon!_

_Sincerely,_

_Pippin_

_P.S. My sisters say it was very improper of me to ask the question about petticoats. I apologize. But I still want to know the answer. Goodbye!"_

Diamond shook her head, still laughing, and went to her desk to respond. In her favorite purple ink, she wrote:

"_August 17th, 1413_

_Dear Peregrin,_

_You have three sisters and one mother, so why on earth are you asking _me_ about petticoats? Go ask them."_

She thought this was a very mature and witty way of handling his inquiry, and smiled to herself before continuing. She explained that things were well in Long Cleeve, scolded him for his mischiefs, answered his other questions, and added a bit about her own goings on.

So her letter was sent, and soon enough a response arrived, and et cetera. In this manner they kept in touch, and learned much about each other. Pippin learned that Diamond's favorite color was pale purple, that she was not good at knitting but tried hard to be, and that she had cried for three days straight when the cat Merle had passed away. And Diamond learned that Pippin was handy with a bow, and that he hated the texture of terracotta flowerpots. She admitted that she often felt uncomfortable in social situations, and he confessed to feeling very guilty for some of the pranks he had pulled.

Years passed by as they grew closer. On the few occasions when they were not separated by distance (festivals, parties, family gatherings, and odd business trips), the pair were often together talking, or playing a game, or just sitting quietly.

One of these special occasions was Diamond's twentieth birthday in February of the year 1415, by the Shire Reckoning. The celebration was to be a very small gathering, basically a simple dinner with family and a few friends. On a whim, Merry and Pippin surprised her by arriving one week early: with Diamond and her sister Sapphire, they were passing a pleasant week in Long Cleeve.

The day before Diamond's birthday, something very different happened.

She, Merry, and Pippin had been out for a walk in the snow that afternoon, and had returned to the Smials with red cheeks and cold feet. To warm up, they made tea and went into the sitting room, where a warm fire was already lit.

Diamond curled up in her favorite armchair, while Merry and Pippin shared a quilt on the couch close by. No one spoke: instead, they concentrated on warming their toes and breathing the steam from their teacups. The room was growing steadily dark, so that the fire's light danced across their faces and the tips of their hair. Pippin became very sleepy. After a good half hour, he had leaned his head against Merry and shut his eyes. It wasn't long before both were fast asleep.

Diamond, however, had taken a book from the shelf and sat reading it by the firelight. It was one she had never read before- something about a princess and a dragon. She was halfway through the second chapter when Pippin sneezed, causing her to look up.

_How adorable, _she thought as Pippin was nuzzling his cousin's arm. They reminded her of newborn kittens, snuggling for warmth. _Little, fluffy kittens..._

It was too much. Diamond found herself blushing and desperately stifling a giggle behind her open book.

At this, Pippin stirred and looked up with a yawn. "Good morning!" he chirped. "What's so funny?"

Diamond shook her head, still trying to compose herself. "Oh, nothing, nothing..."

"Ah, I see. You have glimpsed our cousinly love," mused Pippin, "and are taken aback by it."

"Not at all," Diamond denied, her cheeks flushing even more at his accuracy.

"If you say so," Pippin yawned again. His gaze turned to the book in her hands. "That's just like you: reading, at a time like this..."

Diamond cocked an eyebrow. "A time like what?"

"Why, a time like being in the middle of a conversation with your dear distant cousins."

"My dear distant cousins are both asleep!" laughed Diamond. Pippin shook his head.

"All the same," He said. "Books are no fun."

"Books are great fun," Diamond corrected. "Each one is a beautiful world full of interesting things and wonderful people, people you will never find in real life. Reading is just another way of exploring."

Pippin snorted.

"I suppose you've never even opened a book," Diamond sighed, giving him a haughty look.

"Yes I have!" Pippin retorted, sitting up. "And it was very boring. I threw it out the window instantly."

"Well, maybe you just picked a bad one," said Diamond.

"I doubt it," Pippin smiled playfully.

An idea struck Diamond then. "Why don't you try reading one of my favorites, and see if you like it?"

"Are you serious?" asked Pippin.

Diamond nodded, a smile growing on her face. "I'll even read it with you. It will be like a little book club. There's one I have a few copies of." She rose and scanned the bookcase eagerly, hovering an index finger over the many different spines.

"Wait, wait," there was a hint of annoyance in Pippin's voice. She stopped. "What will you do for me in return?"

Diamond thought for a moment, then with shining eyes said, "if you will read a book for me, Peregrin, I will bake you ten mushroom pies after you've finished."

"Hmm, tempting," Pippin thought aloud. "And I might accept, if you weren't such a terrible cook."

Diamond frowned.

"I know a better condition," he continued, ignoring Diamond's look. "How about, since you are making me do something I hate, you have to do something you hate?"

"Go on." Diamond rested her hands on her hips.

"If I read your silly book, then you have to help me prank someone," he smirked.

"No!" pleaded Diamond.

"Yes!" Pippin insisted.

There was a long, uneasy pause.

"Deal," said Diamond. Pippin laughed and clapped.

"But nothing too dangerous or hurtful!" Diamond begged, holding up a finger.

"That's for me to decide."

"Peregrin...!"

"Will you two shut it?" Merry piped, not bothering to open his eyes.

"Sorry," whispered Diamond, sitting back down. She and Pippin grew silent.

When Merry began to snore again, they exchanged quiet smiles, and shook on the deal.


	5. Eyes

They did not get to reading for a while. In fact, they had almost completely forgotten about the deal until Diamond was scanning the bookcase, four days later. She was looking for a biscuit recipe for her mother, Gypsophila, when she noticed the three different editions of her favorite novel-the one she had planned to read with Pippin. With a gasp she pulled out two of the volumes, and peeked round the corner into the kitchen, where Pippin sat laughing and waiting for tea with Sapphire and Merry. _I'd almost forgotten,_ she thought, smiling down at the treasures in her arms.

When teatime was over, Merry went for a walk, Sapphire retired to her room-and Diamond handed Pippin one of the books, one with a dusty blue jacket. He groaned, but there was a smile on his face: and they spent the afternoon by the window in the sitting room, reading quietly to themselves.

Pippin was dreadfully reluctant at first. He knew books held value-he had noticed Merry beginning to love them more and more: but he had never understood why anyone would rather read than go out to wander in the woods or visit a friend. He could understand the use of histories, family trees, diaries, and the like. But what use was thinking about a fake adventure when one could just as easily go out and do something interesting in real life? Furthermore, the book in his hands smelled old and dusty, and the pages were wrinkled, and there were no pictures, and he was suddenly hungry.

"Humph!"

He knit his brow and frowned, staring defiantly at the text. He secretly hoped that Diamond would see him pouting and say something to postpone the inevitable, but she took no notice. Pippin resolved then to stare at her and sigh loudly until she did.

When he looked up, all impatience gave way to fascination. Diamond sat with her legs crossed oddly and a fluffy quilt pulled over her shoulders like a cloak. She held the book lightly, and turned the gold-edged leaves with great care. She was smiling ever so slightly as she read. And her eyes! There was a bright light in her eyes: they looked warm and resplendent, soft and content. It was a happiness that Pippin recognized. It was the same look that she had worn years ago at Lithe, reading to the children in daycare: her rarest, most wonderful look.

He had seen similar looks in the eyes of other hobbits-while they were cooking, or talking, or gardening, or singing. Everyone seemed to have their own special version of it. But Diamond was the only lass whose eyes lit up while _reading_, as far as Pippin had observed.

Now he understood a little more of who Diamond was. And he loved to understand people, especially her. Somehow it made his heart swell.

Pippin looked back to his own edition, suddenly excited to read it. By the time Gypsophila was calling them for dinner, he had read ten chapters.

* * *

Another week passed, and it was time for the Merry and Pippin to journey home. Their effects were already laid on the ponies at the gate. So now Diamond, Sapphire, and their parents stood in the hall as they bundled up in coats and earmuffs and things, waiting to say farewells before they ventured out into the cold.

"It was so nice of you to come," smiled Gypsophila. She pulled them both into warm hug. Pippin was right in the middle of putting on his mittens, so his hands were smooshed awkwardly into the surprise embrace, which made all three of them laugh. Pippin had come to think of her as an aunt or a grandmother, so loving was her affection for him.

"Please feel welcome to stay with us anytime you like," added her husband, Evergrim, patting them on the back. He was not a very snuggly hobbit, but very kind all the same.

Sapphire curtsied politely; she had been practicing. "Goodbye, and be safe," she said.

"Of course!" Merry nodded cheerfully. "Though I can't promise we won't be cold."

Diamond bowed in her shy way, and was about to say goodbye, when she suddenly remembered something, dashed out into the hall for a minute, and then returned with two small parcels tied with bright ribbons. "I almost forgot," she explained, handing one each to Merry and Pippin. "These are my birthday presents."

"You_ did_ forget, Diamond," Pippin laughed. "These are nearly two weeks late."

"Sorry! I can be so spacey." Diamond shook her head. "But at least I remembered in time."

Merry carefully opened his parcel, while Pippin rather ripped his. Soon enough both were holding up knitted scarves: Merry's was of red and green, and Pippin's was of blue and yellow. The stitching was very poorly done: but Diamond smiled proudly. She had tried a new technique, and thought the result was much better than usual.

"Well, how do you like them?" She asked.

"They are..." Merry paused, studying his. "They are lovely!"

Pippin faked a smile and nodded vigorously. "Thank you, Diamond!"

"They should keep you warm on your journey," Diamond spoke with excitement.

"Ah, er, yes! They should," Merry agreed, and put his scarf on slowly. Pippin gave him a confused look, but followed suit. Finally Diamond said her goodbyes, and the two hobbit-lads bowed before stepping out into the white world.

By the time they reached the southern border of Long Cleeve, the cold wind had picked up speed and Pippin began to notice tiny snowflakes whirling around him and catching in his pony's curly brown mane. Soon snow stung his eyes, and even his tough feet began to feel chilly. It would be a while before they could inn. But Pippin thought hopefully of the book with the dusty blue jacket, which was tucked into one of his bags: and the snow did not dampen his spirits.

* * *

A/N: I apologize for taking such a long time to update, and for the shortness of this chapter! I'm graduating from high school this Sunday so I've been extremely busy with prom, scholarships, college preparations, AP exams, job hunting, and a million other things. I want to try to put out another chapter by the end of Saturday, though. No promises, but that's what I'm aiming for.

All of your reviews made me so happy, I can't explain how much I needed those. And special thanks to dreamflower02 for the super helpful critique (and the generous complements!)


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